Judas Unleashed
by Two of Two
Summary: A typical day on the rescue front turns deadly, as a covert group plots to get the secrets of International Rescue. Will they succeed or will IR be able to protect their own?
1. Chapter 1

Authors Notes: This is a joint story between Lillehafrue and andrewjameswilliams and takes place two years after the events of the movie.

Thanks for Tikatu for pointed out some of my brain dead errors!

---------------------------

Scott Tracy sighed as he put his book down on the table. He was laying on the couch in the lounge, bored out of his mind. He put his hands under his head and stared up at the ceiling. It had been nearly two weeks since they had last been called out on a rescue, and he was beginning to go stir crazy looking for something to do. _It could be worse I suppose,_ he thought. _I could be stuck up on Five._

A shout and a splash from outside caught his attention. He sat up and looked through the door in the direction of the pool. He saw Virgil climb out, fully clothed, and shaking his fist while shouting something, at someone which was presumably his younger brothers. He then turned and marched into the villa, an angry glower on his face.

He stopped in front of Scott, water dripping onto the floor, and cast one last look behind him.

"Why? Why did our parents decide to have more children?" Virgil asked.

Scott chuckled. "Which one?" he asked.

"Does it really matter?"

Scott burst out laughing. "What happened? What did the terrible two do this time?"

Virgil shook his head. "Little punks told me Dad wanted to see me downstairs. So, like an idiot I believed them."

"Ambush, huh?"

"Yeah, the little bastards grabbed me and pulled me in the pool with them." Virgil shook his head again. "I'm going to change before Onaha kills me. See you later."

"Bye Virg." Scott waved as he watched his brother leave the room. He got up and walked out to the pool, making sure to keep well away from the edge. "Hey, you two!"

Gordon waved and swam over to the side. "Scotty! What's up?"

Scott took a few steps back and glared down at his younger brother, folding his arms across his chest. "Virgil is going to kill you."

"Why? What did I do?" Gordon batted his brown eyes innocently.

"Nice try Gordo. You too Sprout." Scott turned his gaze on Alan who just grinned as he swam up next to Gordon. Scott shook his head. "Watch your step. He's really pissed this time."

"Yeah, like we're afraid of Virgil." Gordon snorted.

"What's he going to do, throw his hair gel at us?" Alan added. Gordon burst out laughing and fell back into the water, Alan jumping after him.

Scott rolled his eyes. "Hopeless, utterly hopeless," Scott muttered and headed back inside the villa. He was about to sit down, when his wristcom bleeped for his attention. Raising it, Scott answered the incoming signal, hoping and praying it was something to do, as his father's face appeared on the tiny display screen.

"Scott, I need you in my office," Jeff said.

"F-A-B, Dad, I'm on my way." He hurried to his father's office, taking the steps two at a time. He burst through the doorway. "Dad! What is it? I didn't hear the alarm!"

Jeff looked up, startled at his eldest's sudden entrance. "Easy there Scotty, you'll give the old man a heart attack." He pushed a file in Scott's direction. "This is a company Tracy Corp. is considering taking over. I'd like your thoughts on it."

Scott's face fell and his shoulders slumped; he had been so hoping it was going to be callout for International Rescue. "A corporate take-over?" He sighed and picked up the file.

Jeff frowned. He could see that something wasn't right with Scott. "What's wrong Scott?"

"Nothing. I'll take a look at it." Scott sighed wearily and started from the room.

"Scott, wait." Jeff walked over to his son. "You didn't answer me. What's wrong son?"

Scott shrugged. "Just bored I guess Dad."

"When was the last time you took some leave?" Jeff asked.

"Over a month ago. Went to a class reunion in Kansas remember?" He sighed. "I'm fine Dad. I'll go look this over and let you know."

With that, Scott turned and left the room. Jeff watched him leave, before standing up and deciding he would follow Scott to see if he could do something to cheer him up. He knew well that Scott was something of an adrenaline junkie and that he didn't handle long periods of quiet very well; it just wasn't in his nature. Before Jeff could take a step however, his computer bleeped for attention, indicating an incoming call from the space station. Instantly Jeff sat back down and answered the hail.

"John what can I do for you?" He asked as John's face appeared on the computer screen.

"I could sure use a pizza Dad," John replied. "You know a place that delivers?"

Jeff smiled. They'd been doing this routine for nearly three years now. "Thirty minutes or it's free right?" He replied. "So what's on your mind?"

"Just checking in Dad," John said. "How are things going down there on Planet Tracy?"

"Quiet. Alan and Gordon are up to their normal tricks, and Scott's getting a little bored."

"Uh-oh. Everyone duck for cover, and _not_ from the terrible two's pranks. I'd rather try flying through a hurricane than putting up with a bored Scott."

Jeff chuckled. "He's not _that_ bad John."

John's eyes widened. "No? Remember what happened when he was grounded for two months last year? After he broke his leg on that disastrous skiing holiday he went on?" Jeff winced at that memory; Scott had been very, very hard to live with those two months. In the end, all his brothers wanted to basically throttle him, as he had been driving them up the wall.

"All too well," Jeff replied.

"Then I rest my case."

Jeff chuckled slightly "John where did I get you from?"

"EBay?"

"No that was Gordon, and they refused to take him back but who could blame them," Jeff said. John laughed and Jeff couldn't help but join in; his platinum haired second son's laughter could get quite infectious, just like his mother's had been. "But don't worry about Scott. I've given him something to do. I'm having him look over the details of that company I'm thinking of acquiring."

"The aerospace one?"

"Yes, that one. I wouldn't give him details on the other two I'm after. Those are more your field of expertise."

"True. Still that file on the aerospace company will keep Scott busy for awhile," John answered. "Though, he's probably disappointed that it wasn't a callout."

"Knowing Scott, definitely." John chuckled.

"I'll let you go Dad. I have a few things I would like to work on up here. I'm taking advantage of the lull in rescue calls to work on my next book."

Jeff smiled knowing that John had another bestselling astronomy book in the works; he had already published four of them. "F-A-B, John. I'll talk to you later."

"Talk to you later Dad," John agreed and signed off, leaving Jeff to carry on, working his way through the virtual forest of paperwork on his desk.

-----------------

Treading water, Alan and Gordon watched as Scott came out of the villa with a folder in his hand. Scott seemed to them, to be fed up and disappointed about something, as he marched up the path to the library.

"What's _his_ problem?" Alan asked, wondering what had gotten into their oldest brother. Scott had become increasingly difficult to live with for the last few days, getting more and more moody.

"Life in general," Gordon quipped which promptly earned him a splash of water in the face from Alan.

Alan followed Scott's path until he had disappeared from sight. "It's been quiet on the rescue front for awhile," he said thoughtfully.

"So?" Gordon replied. "It's a nice lull."

"Yeah, but Scott lives for flying and for bossing us around in the danger zone. He hasn't been able to fly Thunderbird One for two weeks, so he's bored stiff. And you _know_ how impossible it is to live with Scott when he's bored."

"Yeah well, Captain Adrenaline can go to all the rescues he wants," Gordon stated. "I for one am quite happy with the way things are at the moment. It's not our fault that Scott's got no life other than flying."

Alan rolled his eyes even as he silently acknowledged that Gordon did have a point there. He took a deep breath and dove under the water for a few moments. When he came up again he saw a familiar mischievous glint in Gordon's hazel brown eyes.

"I know that look Gordon. You're thinking about something," he said, and was rewarded with a wolfish smile from Gordon.

"I think that Scotty needs to loosen up a bit," Gordon replied.

"Hmmm...We could short sheet his bed?"

"Nah, not good enough."

"Dye his underwear pink?"

Gordon grinned and placed his hands on Alan's shoulders. "That, my young apprentice is what I have been training you for," he said doing his best Sith Lord impression, before he hauled himself out of the pool, and extended his hand to pull Alan out. "C'mon! Now, before he comes back!"

Alan grinned back, his own blue eyes twinkling with the same look of mischief that was in Gordon's. _This is going to be so much fun,_ Alan thought, _even though Scott will probably want to throttle us afterwards._ Grinning evilly, the two youngest Tracy sons disappeared into the villa to put their dastardly scheme into effect.

------------------

John frowned thoughtfully at the notepad he had open in front of him. Something wasn't right with the paragraph he had just written; he knew it was, but try as he might he couldn't figure out what it was. _I know it's here somewhere,_ he thought, _just where? I can't do the next bit unless I find the bit that's wrong._

A sudden bleeping sound jolted him out of his musings. Looking up, John's expression became all business as he recognised an alert from the station's computer. The sensors that constantly monitored the planet below, had picked up something, something that could require International Rescue's attention. Putting his pad down, John got to his feet and left his quarters, making his way to the control room.

Crossing the control room to the main console, John's eyes widened when he saw the scanner display. A number of explosions had just occurred in Toronto, Canada. The explosions were in multiple places in the city, on the surface and the in the underground railway system. The sensors showed major damage from all the explosions. Pulling up an overview of Toronto, John noticed that all the explosions had occurred at major transportation, or power grid hub. A glance at the sensors showed that there was massive power failure in Toronto. The power distribution grid for the whole city had gone dead. John recognised the pattern; this was no random occurrence – though multiple explosions at different points in the city, were a statistically impossible occurrence – someone had done this deliberately. _Terrorists, that's the only explanation,_ he thought, knowing there were going to be a lot of casualties down there. _Scott wanted some action. He's got his wish._

Sitting down in front of the console, John pressed the control that would sound the International Rescue alarm down on Tracy Island.

Alan had just finished rounding up all Scott's clean, white underwear, when the alarm went off. In almost perfect unison both he and Gordon groaned.

"Oh man, that alarm's timing really sucks," Gordon moaned. "Put those down Alan; let's go see what's going on. Scott being bored must have jinxed us."

"Must have," Alan agreed, dropping the clothes he was holding before racing out of the room with Gordon in hot pursuit. They arrived in the corridor just as Virgil came out of his own room.

Virgil gave his younger brothers a curious look, having seen them coming out of Scott's room. _They must have been plotting to play a prank on Scott,_ he thought. _Hmm looks like big bro and me are going to have to come up with a prank of our own._ Without talking to Alan or Gordon, he was still miffed about what they had done to him in the pool; he joined them in heading for their father's office, wondering just who needed their help this time.

-----------------------

The moment the International Rescue alarm went off, Scott leapt to his feet and started running out of the library, abandoning what he had been doing for his father. To his mind it was more than time they had a rescue to go to; he was going to get to fly at last. _Don't be happy about someone's misfortune Scott,_ he told himself firmly, as he raced out of the library onto the path that led down to the rest of the villa. _Even though it's giving you chance to fly Thunderbird One again. Someone's gotten in trouble to give you that opportunity._

Feeling a bit more sober, yet not quite able to ignore the butterflies of expectation fluttering about inside him he raced back to the villa.

It took Scott only a few minutes to get back to the villa and into his fathers office. He wasn't surprised to find everyone else already there, and the office already transformed into the high tech command and Control Center of International Rescue.

"What have we got Dad?" Scott asked.

"A series of major explosions in Toronto, Canada Scott," Jeff replied. "Multiple locations, both above and below ground in the underground rail system. According to John, the city has no power at all, people trapped, and there are serious injuries in multiple locations."

"Sounds like terrorists," Scott replied, shaking his head and wishing there was some way to permanently get rid of all the world's various terrorist groups. _But no matter how many you stop, how many organisations you destroy, there were always more to take their place._

"Indeed it does, Scott," Virgil agreed. "But that's not our concern. We just need to get out there and save those innocents who have gotten hurt or stuck through no fault of their own."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Scott started for his portrait. The panel slid up out of the way and Scott stood in his individual lift compartment. Overhead the light turned blue to indicate that he was going to Thunderbird One. The others followed his example, and went into their individual lift compartments, though their lights turned green to indicate that they were going to Thunderbird Two.

"Thunderbirds Are Go," Jeff said, speaking the coded command that would get the lifts moving. The lift doors closed, and the portrait panels slid back down, as the lifts began their journey down to the silos.

Manning the main console, Brains watched the Tracy's leave for the silos. _Hang in there Toronto, we're coming,_ he thought, and turned his attention to the console. He began the required preparations to launch the Thunderbirds, on yet another lifesaving adventure.


	2. Chapter 2

We don't own the Thunderbird's or it's characters, just the ones we made up. Please do not copy without our permission. Thanks!

* * *

Scott eased back on the throttle of Thunderbird One, reducing the mighty machines speed to just below Mach One. Toronto was only a few more miles ahead, he could just see the city in the distance. He could also see the thick plumes of smoke that rose from multiple points in the city, showing where there were what had to be major fires burning. He glanced down at his communications screen and put in a call to John.

"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Five," he said.

"Thunderbird Five here, go ahead Scott," John replied, as his image flashed into existence on the communications display panel.

"I'm about ten minutes from the danger zone." He glanced out the windshields again and frowned. "I can see smoke from here. Any idea what happened? What caused the blasts you picked up?"

John paused before answering, as he knew that this was a very touchy subject for his older brother, and thus something that was not normally talked about in the Tracy family. "It had to be terrorists, Scott," John said quietly. "That's the only way everything could have happened simultaneously."

"Damn..." Scott said, gritting his teeth to keep a hold of his anger. He'd been in New York on a few days leave from the air force, when the World Trade Center had been attacked. Like millions of others, he'd watched in helpless horror as the twin towers burned and ultimately collapsed. Afterwards his squadron had been sent to Afghanistan and he'd spent the rest of his enlistment there fighting both Al-Qaida and Taliban forces. Both events had left him with a very deep and profound hatred for terrorists everywhere. "They'd better not try anything while we're there." He growled.

"Calm down, Scott. Losing your temper won't help matters," John said softly, but with a hint of steel in his voice. "I've sent you the co-ordinates of a place you can land. It's a park but I've already notified the local authorities to clear the area."

Scott took a deep breath to steady himself, and get his temper back under control; while it would be personally satisfying, it wouldn't do the victims any good if he blew his top. "Thanks John. Is there any room for Virgil to land?"

"Negative. Virgil will have to put down in a parking lot near another site. It's full of cars, but we'll have to settle that later."

Despite the situation, Scott had to smile. "Gordon ought to love that. You know how much he loves destroying things. Alan too for that matter." He glanced down at the console. "I'm approaching the co-ordinates you sent. I'll check in once I have Mobile Control up and running."

"F-A-B, Scott. Be careful."

"Always am bro." Scott signed off and surveyed the ground below. He quickly spied the park John had spoke of, and effortlessly landed the turboscram powered rocket jet. Almost before the engines had shut down, he was out of his seat, had his helmet on with visor down, heading for the door.

He activated the ramp, and hurried down as it was lowering. He looked around and spying a group of fire-fighters, quickly made his way in that direction.

One of the men looked up and smiled when he saw someone dressed in the familiar silver grey uniform of International Rescue. "Are we glad to see you guys," he said.

"Glad to be here," Scott replied, as he looked around. "The rest of my team will be here shortly. Want to fill me in?"

"Sure. The field command area's been set up. If you follow us, the lieutenant will bring you up to speed."

Scott nodded. "Okay give me a minute to collect my equipment from Thunderbird One, then you can take me there."

"Okay mate."

Scott turned and hurried back to Thunderbird One. For a moment he disappeared inside and retrieved the large case that contained Mobile Control, then he left his 'bird again. This time he used a small remote unit keyed to his DNA, to lockdown the Thunderbird, so no one could steal her, or probe her secrets while he was away.

"Okay lead the way then," Scott said as he rejoined the fire-fighters.

The one he had spoken to nodded. "Right over here," he replied, then led the way out of the park into the city.

* * *

Virgil arced the giant, green bulk of Thunderbird Two around the city's center. He quickly spied the parking lot John had told them about. Gordon grinned as the ship set down on top of the parked cars.

Virgil rolled his eyes. "You'll never grow up, will you?"

"Not if I can help it!" Gordon quipped back. "Come on Alan, let's move out." Together, the three young men descended the ramp out of Thunderbird two. Virgil quickly locked the 'bird, and they went in search of Scott.

It took them nearly fifteen minutes to reach Mobile Control. Scott spied them and waved. "Glad you made it. Here's where we stand." He pulled up an overview of the city. "We have multiple attacks, one here at Union Station, another here at the Roger's center. And, still more at one of the transformer stations. Whoever these bastards are, they knew what they were doing." Scott's voice was cold, and his brother's exchanged a glance with each other.

Scott didn't notice and went on. "There's a Blue Jays game today, and the stadium was half full. And being rush hour…well, you get the picture."

"So, where do you want us?" Virgil asked.

Scott frowned in thought. "Alan, you and Gordon head to the train station. It's underground, so you'll probably need the Mole." They nodded as Scott turned to Virgil. "Virg, see what you can do over at the ball park. Emergency services are on the scene, but I'll bet they could use all the help they can get."

"FAB Scott." Virgil replied.

"You sticking around here?" Gordon asked.

Scott nodded. "Yes. I'll man Mobile Control and keep Dad apprised of what's going on."

The others quickly headed in their assigned directions, leaving Scott at the console. "Mobile Control to Base."

"Base here, go ahead Scott." His father answered.

"We're on scene. I have the others each going to an accident zone." He paused and glanced around, then lowered his voice. "It's a mess Dad. Reminds me of…." His voice trailed off.

"Easy son."

"I'm OK." Scott took a deep breath to steady himself. "I'll keep you posted, Base. Mobile Control out."

* * *

Over the next four hours, Scott maintained vigil at Mobile Control, keeping an eye on his brother's progress, as well as helping out the various emergency services.

He wearily rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Thunderbird Five to Mobile Control."

Scott sighed. "Go ahead Thunderbird Five."

"Hate to do this to you, bro, but we have another situation." John's voice sounded apologetic.

"What is it?"

"I picked up a distress call from a group of people near the transformer station. Seems that the building they were in, partially collapsed from the explosion."

"Damn…" Scott said quietly.

John heard the frustration in Scott's voice and wished there was something more he could do. For perhaps the thousandth time, he cursed being stuck up on the space station. "Scott?"

"Yeah, John. I'm on it. Can you send me the co-ordinates?"

"FAB."

A few moments later, Scott was scanning the map John had transmitted. "That's not too far from here. I'll lock up Mobile Control and take care of it myself."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, be easier this way. I'll be in touch."

"Be careful, Scott."

"FAB. Mobile Control out." Scott signed off, and quickly shut down the command center's computers. He sent a message back to the island telling his plans, and headed off in the direction of the explosion.

He moved cautiously towards the building, carefully making his way through the debris. This part of the city wasn't far from a major power substation; he could clearly see the hole in the ground where the transformers had been, before the terrorists had blown the station sky high. All that was left of the station, was a massive of broken masonry and twisted metal, sending a plume of dark, acrid smoke lazily up into the sky. Given the force of the explosion, Scott wasn't at all surprised to find out that there were people injured and hurt in neighbouring buildings.

Still, the fact that no one had yet been in this area made Scott cautious, especially as he was alone without the support of his brothers. The reason for his caution was that looters were ransacking parts of the city, taking advantage of the fact that the complete lack of electrical power and the widespread damage hampered the response times of city authorities. Scott knew that most looters would have no qualms about attacking him, International Rescue or not.

Reaching the front of the building Scott went inside, wishing quietly that their uniforms had side arms, though Dad was reluctant to allow that. Scott could understand why, but at the moment he would have been happy to have the reassuring weight of a gun in his hand. Cautiously, he made his way through the building.

"Hello," he called out. "I'm from International Rescue. Is anyone here?"

"Please, help us," a voice called back from one of the rooms up ahead. "There are people hurt in here."

"Okay I'm coming," Scott replied, picking up his pace.

It took only a few moments for him to reach the room in question. Immediately he spotted three people slumped against the far wall. Scott's experienced eye told him that the bulk of Their injuries stemmed from either blunt force due to the concussion wave from the explosion, or slicing injuries from the shattering of the windows.

Scott immediately started forward, getting his emergency kit out to tend to their wounds. Before he could do so however, a sound caught his attention and he turned to the right. As he did so, something slammed into the back of his helmet, hard. The impact stunned Scott even as it sent him falling forward onto his face, shattering his visor and made stars explode before his eyes.

Gasping through the sudden pain in his head, Scott felt himself being turned over. Through blurry eyes, he could just make out someone standing over him.

"Goodnight punk," a voice snarled and something – presumably a foot – slammed into the side of his helmet. The impact sent him spiralling down towards the deep darkness of unconsciousness. Before he completely surrendered to the darkness, he felt something that felt like a spray, being blown in his face. It made his throat and lungs burn, adding more pain to what was already throbbing through his head.

Then the darkness claimed him, and he knew no more.


End file.
